Okay - first of all I know it can’t be because of my face - at least lets hope not or I’m worse off than I thought and all of you have been lying to me.......
Secondly - I know these treatments are pretty harsh on my body, and I have admitted to you before that my bladder control is nil, but I hadn’t wet my pants at all that day, and I wasn’t even wearing my adult diapers or granny panties.
Grandmother’s are getting younger and younger these days. I once met a 28 year old who was a grandmother. She had her daughter at 14 and her daughter followed suit. Although that is a very sad statement on the current affairs of the world.....it is proof that Robyn’s friend could have been exposed to many young grandmas and then easily think I was one too.
But, I have a feeling that none of these were the reasons I was called a grandma. I think it may be the way I was hunched in the wheel chair - with my scarf around my neck, glasses on, blanket around my knees, plastic bonnet on to keep my bun from getting wet. Easily mistaken for a little old lady. Plus the way I kept yellin’ after “sonny” to get the car and get us home, as I beat him over the head with my cane! :o)
At any rate, if I was her grandma I’d be doing pretty darn good - catchin’ myself such a young, good-looking sugar-daddy. Just call me “Gold-Digger.” “Get down, girl! Go ‘head get down!”